


Private Lessons

by Carry_On_Destiel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Come Swallowing, Crossbow Lessons, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Nervousness, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Rough Kissing, Rutting, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carry_On_Destiel/pseuds/Carry_On_Destiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick thinks its high time he learned how to shoot a crossbow - and his sudden interest has absolutely <i>nothing</i>  to do with getting Daryl all to himself for a few hours. Not at all.</p><p>Rick's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had started as a case of simple admiration. Rick appreciated and respected the skill involved in handling that weapon with such casual grace. Because who didn't want to be able to kill as quickly and silently as Daryl Dixon? The man was like a wraith in the mist, doling out death with cool precision. Rick felt clumsy and awkward in comparison to the quiet hunter; his big heavy gun was so loud and single-purposed - practically useless next to Daryl's crossbow. Rick loved that fucking crossbow. He especially loved watching Daryl _use_ it. The way his biceps strained to draw the bowstring, his face so composed as he sighted along the barrel. His chest expanding smoothly then falling again, his long slender finger squeezing off the shot with a  _snap_ of the bowstring. The bolt whirred off, faster than the eye could track. Still, Rick knew exactly where it was going and smiled faintly when it struck; half an inch off-center of the crude bull's eye painted on the big oak, completing the diamond formed by the other three arrows already there.  
  
It may have started as a professional, clinical admiration for the man's skill - that admiration had begun the day Rick had promised to try to rescue Merle from Atlanta. The day he had met Daryl Dixon. The archer's ice-cold confidence with that bow had been captivating, even then. Even when Daryl had been angry, moody and volatile. But now... Rick's gaze wasn't just drawn to the bow anymore. The former police officer stepped out of the shadows, holding his hands up reassuringly as that bow swung around to point right between his eyes.  
  
"Rick," Daryl muttered, lowering the bow quickly, "The hell you doin' here?"  
  
Rick shrugged, ignoring the pleasurable quiver that husky drawl always inspired. "Just came out here to enjoy the quiet. Crowded in there."  
  
Daryl merely grunted in assent, then strode off to retrieve his four arrows from across the clearing. Rick's gaze followed the man's easy rolling gait, drifting down to the jeans slung around his hips, pausing on the angel wings embroidered into the hunter's signature vest then back up to the messy, longish hair that tickled his collar. He could feel his lower lip caught between his teeth but didn't remember biting down on it. Rick quickly released his swollen lip, as the archer returned, and took a deep breath, steeling himself as though he were about to leap into an icy lake.  
  
"Daryl. Could you -would you- teach me?" Rick's heart was stampeding in his chest and he had no idea why.  
  
"Teach y' what, Rick?" Daryl cocked his head slightly, confused by his leader's nervous tone.  
  
Rick laughed awkwardly, feeling ridiculous, "Oh, yeah. Uh - the bow, I mean. Can you teach me how to shoot it?"  
  
Daryl eyed Rick for a long, tense moment, his keen blue eyes far too intent for Rick's comfort, then gave a single jerk of his head and held out the legendary crossbow. Rick accepted it with reverent hands, running his fingers along the stock carefully; drinking in every detail, noting each nick and scuff and trying not to be so aware of the warmth left by Daryl's strong grip. Rick brought the bow up to eye-level, sighting along the shaft as he had seen the hunter do countless times, feeling Daryl's piercing stare, and wondered what this 'lesson' would entail. Finally, Daryl made a little sound in the back of his throat and stepped towards Rick. His hands were feather-light as they brushed along Rick's elbow, adjusting it to the correct angle, then he reached up and moved Rick's thumb from where it was wrapped around the top of the barrel.  
  
"Never do that, Rick." the hunter murmured, "Less you wanna lose a thumb." Daryl was close, so close. Rick felt himself shiver at those words, whispered into his ear.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind... So, what's next?" Rick asked, grateful that his voice sounded almost normal.  
  
"First y' gotta cock it." Daryl replied calmly, perfectly unaware of the way his voice was affecting his student, "So set 'er on the ground and slip your foot in the stirrup. Hold 'er nice and steady."  
  
Rick complied then looked up expectantly, "Now I draw the string back, right?"  
  
"Yeah, but you need'ta be real careful. If yer hand slips, you'd lose half the skin off your fingers - or worse." Daryl's warned, "And make sure you get the pressure exactly even on either side, else your shot'll swing wide and ya won't hit shit."  
  
"Uh, okay..." Rick gripped the bowstring carefully on either side of the stock and began to pull, the taut wire digging painfully into his flesh. _Holy shit this is hard!_ Rick heard himself grunting as he struggled bring the bowstring up far enough to hook it into place, without favoring one side over the other. Finally, it slipped onto the catch and Rick released a huff of triumph, glancing up to see Daryl's rare grin just before it disappeared again. The hunter gave a nod, indicating that Rick could load an arrow along the groove, where it fit snugly.  
  
"Well done, Sheriff. Didn't think you'd have the pull-strength for that." his instructor's tone was teasing, but Rick heard a note of genuine surprise there.  
  
Rick scowled, "Guess I don't inspire much confidence, huh?" he tried for cheeky, but felt his ego deflating slightly despite himself.  
  
Daryl's only response was to step right up behind Rick, guiding his hands back up to a firing position. The breath froze in Rick's chest as Daryl's warm body pressed up flush against his; the archer's hands were strong and sure as they molded over top of his own. The cop-turned-survivalist felt the other man's long hair brush against his cheek and let out a steadying breath. Rick tried to focus on the target in front of him, but all of his instincts were screaming for him to turn and-  
  
"Sight along the shaft and keep y' damn thumb away from the flight groove up top." Daryl's warm breath ghosted over the curve of Rick's ear, causing the older man's mind to go blank and fuzzy for a moment.  
  
Rick carefully adjusted his grip as instructed, trying in vain to regulate his erratic breathing - he was certain that Daryl must feel it. He might even hear Rick's heart, pounding wildly in his chest, as though he were running from a herd of walkers. But Daryl didn't say a word. He just stood there, far too close for comrades in arms, his chest fitted against Rick's back as perfectly as the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle.   
  
"Now." he whispered, "Release."  
  
Rick squeezed the trigger, almost involuntarily, feeling the bow jerk slightly in his grip as the arrow sped off like an angry hornet into the gathering gloom of evening. Rick heard the faint thump of the bolt striking its target but it was too dim to tell where exactly it had landed. He let the bow drop slowly, acutely aware of Daryl's arms still around him and wondering if the hardness pressed against his ass was just the bowman's knife sheath. Turning his head slightly to ask a question, Rick instead found his lips brushing against Daryl's soft mouth.   
  
_Oh fuck_. Rick gasped, the bow dropping from his numb fingers; shock spreading through his body, from his lips to his toes. Daryl took advantage of the moment, covering Rick's mouth with his own, his tongue delving between parted lips. Then he sucked Rick's full lower lip into his mouth with the faintest hint of a moan. Sensation came flooding back and Rick turned fully into Daryl's embrace, responding eagerly to the kiss, his brain overwhelmed with messages of _Daryl._ The taste of his mouth, the way those calloused hands gripped at his shirt, the smell of smoke and sweat, that long hair tickling Rick's face as their bodies melded together. Rick rolled his hips forward, subtly, canting them against the other man's lean body; confirming that the firm pressure he had felt against his ass earlier was _not_ a knife. The motion created the faintest friction between their bodies, wrenching a whimper out of Daryl's throat. Hands slipped down to grip Rick's ass, pulling him in roughly, their legs slotting together. The archer's head fell back, his breath ragged, as he rutted against the older man's thigh. The position caused their erections to rub together deliciously and Rick could feel himself rushing toward the finish-line already.. But it was too soon - much too soon. With a supreme act of willpower he straightened his arms, forcing the younger man away with a groan.  
  
"Daryl.. Daryl, wait! Not- not so fast." Rick panted, feeling light-headed,"I won't last. I want to make it last for you."  
  
Daryl's chest was heaving, his pupils dilated, nearly swallowing all the blue, "Fuck lasting, I just fucking want _you_. Right here. Right now."  
  
Daryl shoved Rick back until he stumbled up against a thick beech trunk, pinning him there firmly and surging forward to capture the sheriff's lips again. Rick felt his hands act without his permission, moving up to twine roughly through the archer's sexy hair, deepening their kiss. Both men were moaning; gasping each others' names each time they parted to catch a quick breath before coming together again. Daryl reached down to grasp Rick's thigh, pulling it up around his waist so he could thrust into his body even harder, rocking Rick back against the bark roughly. Rick dropped his head back against the tree with a groan, staring up into the dusky pink sky, his vision blurred with pleasure as Daryl ground their cocks together. It felt fucking _incredible_ , even with far too many clothes in their way. Now Rick's hands were pushing impatiently at Daryl's vest, shoving it off those powerful shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Shaking fingers went for the buttons but he couldn't muster the patience to undo them one-by-one, instead tearing the fabric away with a single, sharp jerk. Daryl's mouth spread in a feral grin as his lean torso was exposed to the cool night air.  
  
"That's it, Sheriff." Daryl's voice was wickedly low, "No need to be gentle with me, I won't break."  
  
The hunter bypassed Rick's shirt, his deft fingers pulling at the cop's belt instead, making short work of the well-worn leather. Rick was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses onto Daryl's neck and shoulders, occasionally dragging his teeth against that warm, salty skin. When Daryl finally pulled his aching cock free of his jeans, Rick's knees almost buckled beneath him and he clutched the younger man to stay upright. Daryl's palm was rough and calloused as he slowly stroked downwards, following the slight curve of Rick's shaft. Rick bit down hard on the lean muscled chest in front of him. The only response was a huff of laughter as Daryl squeezed harder and picked up his pace; his fist pumping up and down in a smooth, unbelievably perfect rhythm. With his left hand still clutching at Daryl for balance, Rick kissed the reddened area where his teeth had surely left a bruise, almost apologetically, while his other hand slid downward to grip Daryl's shaft through his jeans. The hunter's breath caught in his throat and his hand faltered, slowing on Rick's cock for a brief moment before he redoubled his effort, his movements suddenly rough and frantic. Rick shut his eyes tightly, willing himself not to come yet, then caught the other man's hand in a firm grip.  
  
"Not yet. I can't come yet, Daryl." Rick hissed, breathlessly, "Want this - want you - so fucking bad. Need to make it good for you.."  
  
Daryl allowed Rick to twist them around, so that the hunter was now trapped against the tree. Rick leaned in to taste Daryl's mouth again, more slowly than before, savoring the play of soft lips and eager tongue. As their kiss grew more heated, Daryl tried to reach for Rick's cock again but found his wrist twisted away and pinned to the tree instead. Rick smiled against the hunter's mouth when he felt his body relax back against the trunk, submitting to Rick's control. Knowing that Daryl trusted him enough to follow his lead was intoxicating. Rick released the hunter's hand and slid his fingertips ever-so-slowly up the delicate skin at his wrist and inner arm, making his way up to cup Daryl's cheek.  
  
Kissing along Daryl's jawline, Rick caught the hunter's earlobe with his teeth, nibbling gently at the soft lobe before sucking it into his mouth, savoring the little whine it drew from the other man. Rick drew back slowly, his teeth dragging across the silky, wet skin, tugging every so gently before he continued his journey downwards. Rick's lips worshiped Daryl's throat, tasting every inch, feeling his pulse thundering just below the surface, but gravity was drawing him slowly and steadily to his knees. Pausing along the way to flick his tongue over Daryl's taut pink nipples, Rick dropped into the dust at the hunter's feet. Rick began kissing the sensitive skin just above Daryl's belt, glancing up into fiery blue eyes, holding the younger man's gaze as he quickly stripped away the clothing that blocked his progress.  
  
"Oh fuck-! Jesus fucking Christ, Rick..yes..." the words were tight and strained, as though Daryl was barely holding himself together  
  
Daryl grasped the tree on either side, breathing fast and shallow, as his cock sprang free of its imprisonment, mere inches from Rick's warm, wet lips. Rick studied it with curious eyes, never having seen another man's cock up close before. It was longer than his own, though not by much, and perhaps more slender but he couldn't be certain - at least not without a side-by-side comparison. But that could wait, because right now Rick was hungry for his first taste. Tempering his eagerness, he approached slowly, almost hesitantly. Wrapping his hand around the base of Daryl's stiff cock first, he slid his fist up to the head slowly then brought it back down more quickly, eyes fixed on the archer's face. Daryl's gasp was barely audible, but his mouth dropped open and his eyelids fluttered shut at Rick's touch. Feeling more confident, Rick closed the last two inches and let his tongue slide over the smooth, rounded tip of Daryl's cock, surprised by how hot it felt. He was trembling slightly as he moved his tongue down along the underside of Daryl's shaft, exploring each ridge and throbbing vein with his wet mouth, sucking kisses into the side of his cock every few seconds. Rick wasn't avoiding taking Daryl into his mouth properly - not really - he was just... taking his time, that's all.  
  
"C'mon Rick, please..." Daryl panted, low and desperate, "Please, I need- need you, Rick.. Please."  
  
Suddenly Rick felt Daryl's fingers slide into his hair gently, at first, then he gripped the former cop's dark curls firmly, guiding Rick's lips back to the tip of his flushed cock. With a faint flutter of nerves low in his belly, Rick opened up to accept that smooth, spit-slicked head into his mouth. Daryl didn't rush him, he was stroking Rick's hair with shaking fingers now, murmuring quiet words of encouragement into the growing darkness. Rick slid his tongue along the slit at the tip of Daryl's shaft as he slowly wrapped his lips around the head - which suddenly felt a lot thicker than Rick had first thought. Daryl groaned as Rick tried to take him in deeper, until his throat protested and he pulled away a few inches, deciding instead to suck firmly on the tip while bobbing up and down slightly.  
  
"Holy shit, Rick!" Daryl choked out, fist clenching at Rick's hair again, "Oh god yeah.. Jesus-fuck! Don't stop!"  
  
Rick had absolutely no intention of stopping now that he was drawing those insanely sexy sounds out of the usually stoic hunter. With renewed incentive, Rick let himself slide further down the archer's thick shaft again, still maintaining his rhythm and suction and evoking an honest-to-God _whimper_ from Daryl's lips. Officer Grimes - kneeling in the dirt in front of this sexy, scarred, unpredictable, bike riding, bow-wielding bad ass - wrapped his fingers around Daryl's shaft again and began pumping his fist in time with his hot, slick mouth. Rick brought his free hand up, scraping his nails along the pale skin at Daryl's hip then drifted over to cup the hunter's balls, kneading them gently in his warm palm.  
  
Daryl jerked violently under Rick's ministrations and the older man barely heard the muttered warning before that hard shaft throbbed in his fist - then Rick's tongue was flooded with hot sticky cum. It was thick and salty, but Rick swallowed it down gamely even when a few drops escaped to roll down his chin. Daryl melted back against the tree bonelessly, barely able to remain on his feet. Rick kissed and licked away every last drop of come from his friend's still-twitching shaft. While he cleaned up Daryl's cock, Rick reached down to grip his own neglected dick, jerking it hard and fast. It only took a few seconds to bring himself off and he groaned around Daryl's softening head, spilling his load onto the ground, his body humming pleasantly in the chilly night air.  
  
After a few long moments, Rick dragged himself to his feet, steadying himself against the tree and leaning in to catch Daryl's lips in another deep, but exhausted, kiss. The hunter flicked his tongue inside Rick's mouth, chasing the flavor of himself before it faded away, then kissed his way down to capture the stray droplets caught in Rick's short beard. They both pulled up their jeans, tucking themselves away, almost shyly. Rick chuckled, low in his throat and wrapped his arms around the archer's lean torso, noting how cold his skin felt from being bared to the evening chill. Rick snatched Daryl's vest from the grass and helped him into it - feeling like a bit of a jerk now, for ripping the other man's shirt, but unable to regret it too much.  
  
"I, uh, I suppose we ought to get back. They're probably looking for us already." Rick tried to minimize the awkwardness of the moment with a laugh, "Don't want Carol to catch us like this."  
  
"Mhm." The archer collected his bow and stalked off without another word, in the opposite direction of the prison. Rick hurried to catch up, wary of speaking, wondering if Daryl was upset by what had happened. If he regretted it. _Fuck, I hope not. That was... mindblowing..._ Rick matched the hunter's stride, falling into step next to him as they crossed the glade, heading -Rick realized- toward the target tree. As they neared the dead tree, Rick was able to spot the arrow he had loosed a lifetime ago. It had struck just up and left of the outer circle. Daryl tugged it free effortlessly and returned it to his quiver, then spun on his heel, heading home.  
  
After several agonizing moments of silence, Daryl finally spoke, "It was a good shot, Rick. I might make a bowman outta you yet." the hunter's teeth flashed in a brief smile, "If you wanna keep trying, that is."  
  
Rick felt a pleased smile plaster across his face. He hoped there would be many, many more lessons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick asks Daryl to teach him how to shoot a crossbow. Daryl has other plans.
> 
> Daryl's POV

Daryl took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gazing along the barrel of his new crossbow. The target was about 60 paces out, so he aimed high and slightly to the right, adjusting for the cross-breeze that ruffled his hair. Setting his shoulders firmly, the hunter held his body utterly still; only his right index finger moved, squeezing the hair trigger smoothly. The arrow sped off with satisfying hum and Daryl's practiced eye knew exactly where it would strike. The expected thump of the arrow smacking into the rotted tree trunk was followed by a subtle snap of twigs to his left. Turning swiftly, Daryl swung his bow up, pointing it directly between a pair of icy blue eyes.  
  
"Rick." Daryl lowered his weapon quickly, feeling a little thrill that had nothing to do with being startled, "The hell you doin' here?"  
  
The other man shrugged, tilting his head slightly, "Just came out here to enjoy the quiet. Crowded in there."  
  
That sexy drawl made Daryl's stomach flutter and the hunter heard his own nonsensical grunt as he strode away, trying hide the warmth rising in his cheeks. He could feel Rick's eyes on him as he walked, and was strangely aware of his arms moving at his sides. Did they always swing like that? Why did it feel so weird? Shaking off that thought, he retrieved all four arrows from their tight formation around the bull's eye. He inspected each shaft automatically as he returned them to their quiver; ensuring that there were no cracks that might splinter and take his hand off the next time he needed to use them. When he turned back, all Daryl could see was Rick's lip, caught between his teeth. The smooth pink skin was white where the older man's teeth dug into it. Rick released it as Daryl approached and the archer found himself mesmerized by the subtle shine left by Rick's tongue, as color flooded back into the supple flesh. It looked irresistibly wet and inviting...  
  
"Daryl." the hunter heard his name, but it didn't register with his distracted brain, "Could you -would you- teach me?"  
  
With a concentrated effort, Daryl dragged his attention from that lip back to Rick's eyes. Rick's intense, stormy blue eyes... That wasn't helping- Wait, what did he say?  
  
"Teach y' what Rick?" Daryl asked, knowing he looked a damned fool with his head cocked to one side like a confused puppy.  
  
The other man chuckled; the sound was like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from Daryl's lungs, "Oh, yeah. Uh - the bow, I mean. Can you teach me how to shoot it?" Rick said, a wry grin pulling at his mouth.  
  
Daryl stared, his brain short-circuiting. Rick Grimes wanted to learn how to shoot his crossbow. The hunter thought about every person who had ever asked him that - mostly women, but a couple of guys too. Every single one of them had tried to use those 'lessons' as an opportunity to get in the hunter's pants. Not that they had succeeded, but Daryl had realized soon enough that 'crossbow lessons' was apparently code for 'Let's fuck'. And now Rick. Grimes. Was asking **him** for a crossbow lesson. Daryl prayed harder than he had ever prayed in his life that the code still applied, as he handed over the bow, his voice stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat.  
  
The other man accepted it with such an awed expression that Daryl immediately decided that he was wrong. Rick genuinely wanted to learn how to shoot and this lesson was purely professional. He had no ulterior motive. _Damn._ Still though, it wasn't so bad to see those work-hardened fingers gliding over every inch of the barrel as Rick inspected it thoroughly. Daryl felt faintly self conscious of the many dents, scratches and chips in the stock and stirrup. Then Rick drew the bow up to sight along the shaft and if that wasn't the sexiest fucking thing Daryl had ever seen, he would throw himself to the nearest walker. The archer couldn't fully smother the faint moan that bubbled up at that view, so he stepped forward, trying to cover the moment by adjusting Rick's grip. _Jesus, his grip_... Daryl noticed that Rick's thumb was curled around the flight groove and carefully pulled it away, his instinctive bow knowledge taking over as he leaned in to explain.  
  
"Never do that, Rick." his voice felt weak and shaky, "Less you wanna lose a thumb." Daryl felt himself drifting far too close, seeking the other man's warmth and thought he sensed a tremor running along Rick's body.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind." Rick's deep voice was perfectly cool and steady, "So, what's next?"  
  
Daryl hated him for being so damned calm, while his own heart felt like it was trying to burst through his ribcage, but he focused on what he knew. And he knew bows.  
  
"First y' gotta cock it." he ordered, flushing like a teenager at the word 'cock', "So set 'er on the ground and slip your foot in the stirrup. Hold 'er nice and steady."  
  
Rick set the bow down, gripping the stock casually with one hand while he fit his boot into the steel stirrup like he had done it a hundred times. Then he looked up with those piercing eyes, pinning Daryl to the spot.  
  
"Now I draw the string back, right?" Rick's voice was full of excitement, his face shining with enthusiasm and  _Godfuckingdammit_ Daryl wanted nothing more than to drag him into the grass and kiss him senseless.  
  
 "Yeah," he agreed, remembering his task, "but you need'ta be real careful. If yer hand slips, you'd lose half the skin off your fingers - or worse." Daryl warned, "And make sure you get the pressure exactly even on either side, else your shot'll swing wide and ya won't hit shit."  
  
"Uh, okay." Rick's voice sounded slightly nervous for the first time as he fitted his fingers on either side of the bowstring and pulled. The former cop's back arched, straining against his shirt, every muscle visible in his lean, powerful body. Daryl knew the man was strong - even stronger lately with all the digging and lifting and building he had been doing - but the muscles required to draw a 150lb crossbow by hand were very specific. It had taken Daryl years to develop them and it still hurt like hell the next day if he had to shoot his bow more than a dozen times. Daryl had known men twice his size who worked out daily and drank fancy sports drinks that wouldn't have been able to do it. So when the string actually slipped over the catch and locked into place, Daryl felt his eyes widen with shock and admiration. The hunter couldn't quite hide the smile that blossomed on his face. He jerked his chin, signalling the other man to load an arrow along the barrel groove.  
  
"Well done, Sheriff. Didn't think you'd have the pull-strength for that." Daryl tried to sound more teasing than awestruck.  
  
Rick's proud expression wilted, "Guess I don't inspire much confidence, huh?" he muttered, sounding defeated.  
  
Daryl mentally kicked himself for being an insensitive, redneck douchebag and floundered for a moment, trying to remember what to do next. Rick was standing there, shoulders slouched forward and Daryl couldn't resist giving him a hands-on demonstration. He held his breath, hoping that he wasn't about to get punched in the face, then stepped forward to guide Rick's arms up to the proper shooting stance. The archer felt a surge of tingly nerves as his chest brushed against that muscular back. The hunter felt the other man lean back the slightest amount, pressing himself fully against Daryl's chest. The hunter froze, wondering, hoping, _praying_ that Rick had done that on purpose. The feel of Rick's firm body pressed against his was incredible and Daryl felt a stirring in his jeans. Now that he was this close, Daryl couldn't help but notice how shaky the officer's breathing was and the little quivers running through his body. _Or maybe that's me..._ Daryl thought, his eyes fixed hungrily on the smooth skin of Rick's throat.   
  
"Sight along the shaft and keep y' damn thumb away from the flight groove up top." Daryl breathed into Rick's ear. God it was so close, barely an inch from his lips..  
  
Rick's fingers were shaking slightly as they shifted away from the top of the barrel, his breathing was fast and shallow, matching Daryl's. The hunter couldn't tell if the thundering in his ears was his own heart or Rick's, but he knew he never wanted this feeling to stop.  
  
"Now." he heard himself whisper, "Release."  
  
Rick let out a soft huff of breath as his finger tightened on the trigger, loosing the arrow. Distracted as he was, Daryl could see that Rick's shot had flown true and was rewarded by the distant _thud_ as the arrow struck his chosen target. The hunter knew that he should let go of Rick now - he shouldn't have touched him in the first place. That was stupid, what was he thinking? Did he really think that Rick Grimes would ever want a dirty hillbilly like him? Daryl was painfully aware that he was hard, and that his pelvis was pressed very close - too close - to Rick's ass. Just as Daryl turned to congratulate his student on a great shot, Daryl found his mouth pressed against Rick's soft, perfect lips instead. _Sweet fucking Jesus...  
  
_ Rick gasped into his mouth and without pausing to think, Daryl felt himself licking his way between those amazing, incredible, delicious lips. Daryl was vaguely aware of Rick letting the bow fall to the ground before the other man twisted in his arms, bringing their mouths together even more perfectly. Daryl drew that full, smooth lip into his mouth, sucking gently, the tendrils of heat gathered in his chest culminating in soft moan. Rick tasted better than the hunter had ever imagined; gripping his lithe body felt like holding onto a hurricane - Daryl knew it would destroy him but there was no fucking _chance_ he was ever letting go. Then Rick's hips rocked forward against Daryl's and the hunter's mind simply froze. He couldn't do anything to prevent the pathetic whimper that tore from his throat, as he felt Rick's erection grind against his own. _Holy fucking shit._ Was this for real - was this actually happening? Daryl realized that his hands had slid down to grab Rick's ass and felt then other man shift so that their legs fit together like scissors, and then he was grinding against that hard, muscled thigh and his head was falling back as he gasped and moaned. Jesus that felt so fucking good... Daryl knew he going to come embarrassingly soon but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Suddenly Rick was shoving him back and Daryl felt his insides turn to lead, his chest constricting painfully, _No. No-no-no! Don't. Don't let it be over...  
  
_ "Daryl.. Daryl, wait! Not- not so fast." Rick panted, looking completely wrecked,"I won't last. I want to make it last for you."  
  
_Oh thank fucking God,_ Daryl released a huff of relief, his hands shaking with desire to drag the other man against his lips again and never let him go. Rick wasn't telling him to fuck off; he was worried about finishing too soon. Because Rick was just as turned on as Daryl was. That thought sent Daryl's pulse racing and burned away all sense of reason.  
  
"Fuck lasting, I just fucking want _you_. Right here. Right now." he growled, as his hands closed on Rick's shoulders again.  
  
He was shoving the cop back, until he slammed against a tree with a sharp gasp, then Daryl's mouth covered his again. Rick's hands were suddenly fisting in his hair, tugging gently at first, then harder and _oh fuck_ that felt good. Rick's lips and tongue were intent on his own and Daryl was gasping the man's name, moaning into his mouth, hearing his own name whispered between rough, wet kisses. Daryl reached down, hooking his hand under Rick's thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his waist so he could thrust into the sheriff's body, rocking him against the tree fiercely. The motion caused their hard cocks to line up perfectly, creating the most intense, amazing, mindblowing friction Daryl had ever experienced in his life. Rick's head fell back against the tree, his eyes staring off into the middle distance, looking dazed; his red and swollen lips and glistening in the pinkish light of the sunset. Daryl was just thinking that this was a real romantic moment when Rick's hands suddenly began tearing at his clothes fervently, shoving his vest off and to the ground. The former cop tried to grasp the top button but gave up almost immediately, and simply tore the garment in half with one sharp wrench. Daryl felt himself grinning, completely floored by Rick's intensity. Somehow, he had always imagined Rick being all gentle touches and sweet kisses. Making _love._ Not fucking, rough and dirty against a tree. Well, maybe that is how he had been with Lori. But Daryl wasn't no dainty 90lb girl.  
  
"That's it, Sheriff." Daryl encouraged, his voice husky, "No need to be gentle with me, I won't break."  
  
Now Daryl couldn't wait any longer. His hands dove for the officer's belt, tugging at the supple leather with nimble fingers, and then _finally_ pulling his jeans open. Rick's mouth was driving him absolutely insane - sucking, kissing, nipping and gasping against his bare skin - Daryl's neck and shoulders were alight with the sensation, he never wanted it to end.. When the hunter finally managed to free Rick's thick rod _-god it was so thick-_ from his jeans, the former cop almost melted to the ground, only the solid tree kept him upright. Rick's fingers dug painfully into Daryl's shoulder and the hunter took that as a sign to hurry the fuck up. Wrapping his hand around Rick's warm, velvety smooth shaft, Daryl squeezed cautiously and slid his trembling fist down the elegant curve of Rick's cock. In response, Daryl felt Rick's teeth sink into the muscle just under his left collarbone, nearly breaking the skin. Daryl gasped out a surprised laugh, his fist tightening on Rick's cock, pistoning up and down smoothly. Then Daryl felt Rick's lips kissing the tender flesh gently, while the older man's hand slid down the front of his body. When that sure grip squeezed his aching cock, Daryl's entire body jerked in response, the hunter's nerves buzzing with pleasure. Realizing that his hand had stalled, Daryl began pumping again, his fist moving messily, erratically on Rick's shaft until the other man caught his wrist and yanked his hand away.

"Not yet. I can't come yet, Daryl." Rick gasped, his face flushed with desire, "Want this - want you - so fucking bad. Need to make it good for you.."  
  
Hearing Rick's ragged, panting voice claim the he wanted _Daryl_ was utterly shocking to the quiet hunter. How could that even be possible? Before he knew it, Rick had twisted him around, pressing him against the tree now and Rick's mouth was on his. This kiss was soft and deep, Rick's lips were like magic, taking Daryl apart without even trying. The hunter felt a powerful, unnamed emotion rising up in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him and he suddenly felt panicked. _No, this is sex - just sex._ Trying to regain some measure of control, Daryl reached for Rick's cock but his hand was captured in an iron grip and pinned back against the rough tree bark behind him. Daryl tensed, every instinct telling him to fight, to escape, to break free - but this was Rick. Rick wasn't going to hurt him. Finally, reluctantly, he allowed his body to ease back against the tree and was rewarded by Rick's lips, smiling against his own, as he kissed him gently. The officer's steely grip loosened, freeing Daryl's hand. Rick's rough fingertips glided smoothly up the hunter's sensitive wrist, following the soft skin up until he was cupping Daryl's scruffy cheek. His hands were incredibly tender and comforting and again Daryl felt that swell of emotion try to suffocate him.  
  
Rick tilted Daryl's face with gentle hands and began kissing along the hunter's stubbly jawline, until he reached the earlobe. Daryl whimpered with pleasure when Rick's warm mouth drew his soft lobe inside, sucking and nibbling lightly on the tender flesh. Rick pulled back, ever-so-slowly, his teeth tugging softly on Daryl's ear and then _-sweet fuck-_ he was moving down, mouthing hot, wet kisses into Daryl's neck. He didn't stop there, he continued sinking down, slowly, pausing briefly to tease Daryl's nipples with his tongue - felt fucking good. Rick had barely touched the hunter's cock but Daryl still felt as though he might come any second. Now Rick was on his knees and his hands were on Daryl's belt and _oh_ _shit_ , _was he really going to..?_ The older man looked up, eyes locking onto Daryl's, who couldn't have looked away if he tried. Then Rick smiled and all of Daryl's sense of inhibition fled.  
  
"Oh fuck-! Jesus fucking Christ, Rick..yes..." Daryl heard the words from his mouth but that couldn't have been him speaking, in that desperate, begging tone. Could it?  
  
Then Rick's hand was pulling Daryl's dick out of his jeans, smooth as silk and Daryl clutched the tree for support - unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Rick staring at his cock. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips wet and slightly parted and so close... Then Rick's strong hand wrapped around the base of his shaft and Daryl saw stars. The officer's hand was smooth and sure, moving up along the rigid flesh easily and then back down to the root with one quick thrust. _Fuck!_ Daryl gasped, his eyes falling shut as he willed himself not to come all over Rick's face already. That resolve became a hundred times harder when Daryl felt the soft, tantalizing warmth of Rick's tongue teasing the over-sensitive head of his cock. Daryl bit his lip hard as Rick's tongue continued its exploration down his shaft, thoroughly wetting every inch of Daryl's cock as the older man sucked soft kisses into the side of his painfully-hard cock. That tongue was pure and utter perfection but Daryl knew he was going to explode all over his friend's face any second and he couldn't let this end like that.  
  
"C'mon Rick, please..." Daryl whined, desperately, "Please, I need- need you, Rick.. Please."  
  
The hunter slid a hand hesitantly into Rick's thick, dark curls - _fuck, he'd always wanted to do this_ \- and felt his fist tighten of its own accord. A soft gasp spurred him on and he carefully steered Rick's mouth back to the tip of his eager, begging cock. Rick's lips parted willingly and it was all Daryl could do not to thrust and fuck into his throat until he came, releasing his load all over those sexy lips. Instead, Daryl relaxed his hand and ran his fingers shakily through those curly, silken locks. He was begging. Begging softly for Rick's warm wet mouth. Rick's tongue licked away the bead of precome from Daryl's cock, then his lips wrapped around and sank down his shaft. Rick was moaning quietly and sliding Daryl's shaft deeper and deeper until it finally hit the back of his slick throat - it felt like fucking _Heaven._ Then Rick drew back slightly and began sucking the head of his cock with the perfect amount of pressure, as Daryl's former, and forever, leader bobbed up and down his shaft.  
  
"Holy shit, Rick!" Daryl's fist was clenching at Rick's hair again, "Oh god yeah.. Jesus-fuck! Don't stop!"  
  
He didn't. Instead he continued sucking, hard and deep, while he took Daryl's throbbing, aching cock deeper with each motion. Daryl didn't even recognize the sounds he was making, he just knew he was fucked. There was no stopping, no turning back because he was fucked.  Daryl Dixon - dirty, degenerate redneck - had fallen for Officer Rick Grimes. Just when Daryl thought he had experienced every pleasure available on heaven and earth, he felt Rick's nails drag along his hipbone then those warm fingers carefully stroked his balls, kneading them gently in his hand.  
  
Daryl gasped out a warning, knowing he would never pull out in time, his hips stuttered and jerked and his cock twitched violently in Rick's firm grip - then he was coming in his friend's mouth, his release rocking him like the waves in the ocean. Daryl felt Rick sucking, swallowing - _Jesus -_ but he couldn't see straight, his muscles felt like wet noodles and he collapsed back against the tree, locking his knees to prevent himself from sliding into a puddle in the grass. His breath was loud and ragged, the blood thundering in his ears, but even over all of that Daryl heard Rick's tense, gasping little moans and realized that the man was jerking himself off. Before Daryl could stimulate his comatose body into reacting, he heard the final thrust, Rick's sigh of relief and knew it was too late.  
  
Daryl stood there, his body still weak and trembling from the intensity of his orgasm, feeling like an asshole for taking advantage of Rick and not even returning the favor. Eventually Rick stood up, swaying a little, then leaned in and covered Daryl's mouth with his own. His lips were soft and warm, he tasted salty and slightly bitter but Daryl wanted more. He wanted _Rick's_ come on his tongue. The corner of Rick's mouth was sticky with it and Daryl kissed it away, following the flavor down to where a stray drop had caught in that short, scruffy, unbelievably sexy beard. Finally, they parted and both men pulled up their pants a little sheepishly, Daryl still feeling guilty for leaving Rick to take care of himself. _That was my job._ Then Rick laughed, that low chuckle like a forest stream flowing over rocks and Daryl felt Rick's arms close around him. He was so warm, Daryl marveled, wanting to melt into that reassuring embrace. He remembered his torn shirt with a smile. But suddenly Rick was handing him his vest and Daryl knew that the moment was over.  
  
"I, uh, I suppose we ought to get back. They're probably looking for us already." Rick's forced, awkward laugh felt like a knife in the chest, "Don't want Carol to catch us like this."  
  
"Mhm." The hunter agreed, snatching his bow, trying to rebuild his crumbled walls but it was useless. He had let Rick in completely. He had fallen for Rick a long time ago but he had never once believed that he had even a hint of a chance with the tough, smart leader. Now... Now he had actually been with Rick; he knew what that felt like. It was amazing, life-changing, earth-shattering...  but would it ever happen again? How would Daryl survive if it didn't? He didn't even notice that he was walking away from Rick until the other man caught up, striding beside him as easily and naturally as they always had. Daryl could feel Rick's eyes on him, but kept his own gaze fixed determinedly on the skeletal oak ahead. As they drew closer, Daryl saw, with a thrill of pride for his friend, that Rick's arrow had landed beautifully, just outside the crude 12 inch circle of dried walker blood. Daryl pulled the arrow free with a powerful jerk, running his fingers along the shaft, searching for damage. He was slightly awed at how well Rick had shot, even as he turned back. For a first attempt, in shitty lighting - and the way Daryl had draped himself all over Rick's back - that shot was incredible. Daryl doubted he could have done as well. In fact, if Rick had been pressed up against him, whispering in his ear he probably would have misfired in more than one way.  
  
Daryl finally looked over at Rick, grateful for his patient silence, "It was a good shot, Rick. I might make a bowman outta you yet." the hunter flashed a smile, "If you wanna keep trying, that is."  
  
The huge, goofy smile spreading across Rick's face was all the answer he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments and critiques are welcome but please keep it civil.


End file.
